Dawn of the Dragon
by Blaze'Bard
Summary: Fugitives on the run from the Thalmor and members of the secret Mistcloak Order, Rilian of Valenwood and her younger brother Bregor arrive in Skyrim during a time of turmoil. Despite her efforts to keep a relatively low profile, Rilian soon finds herself caught up in ancient prophesies of dragons. But she must also perform a Mistcloak warrior's primary duty: to hunt vampires.


(A/N: The Elder Scrolls V: Skyrim and all characters and quests within that game belong to Bethesda. The Mistcloak Order is headcanon I invented in order to explain the existence of my "Mistcloak" custom class in The Elder Scrolls IV: Oblivion.)

–

Prologue

The mountain air felt like it was biting into Rilian's flesh as she crept cautiously through the wilderness. The rags she wore did practically nothing to keep out the chill. It seemed like a lifetime ago when she was living in warmth and comfort, wearing fancy dresses and attending society parties only open to the wealthiest merchants of Valenwood and the Thalmor's toadies; now she was on the run for her life and practically covered with dirt. She brushed a few strands of copper-colored hair from her field of vision and looked back towards her younger brother, Bregor. The child was trying not to shiver and failing abysmally. "Stay close," she whispered to him.

The wind shifted, and a rustling sound in the shrubs ahead told her that something had caught their scent. She stopped in her tracks, motioned to her brother to do the same, and drew a hunting knife made of deer bone from the cord she wore as a belt; this knife was the only thing she had been able to grab to defend herself against the Thalmor raid that destroyed her home, and it had served her well on their trek across Cyrodiil. They had left Bruma the day before and headed north. Rilian figured they must have already crossed the border between Cyrodiil and Skyrim by now, but they still had to be careful in the wild.

A lone black-furred wolf lunged out of the underbrush towards Rilian, intent on making a meal of the two wood elves. However, it didn't expect its prey to be a born hunter herself; even if she had been living a soft life just a few months prior, the hunt was in the cultural air she breathed growing up. Rilian's knife pierced it between the eyes, and it slumped to the ground. A few minutes later, the travelers continued on their way, with Bregor now kept warm by a new wolfskin coat.

It wasn't long before Rilian heard others speaking nearby. "We must not let our guard down," she heard one of them say in a strong, serious voice. "Even in the middle of the wild, there may be Imperial sympathizers about."

"This is worth the risk," someone else said. "It has been too long since we were able to strike the Empire hard enough to hurt them. The heart of a true son or daughter of Skyrim is loyal to the end, but I would be lying if I said morale isn't low. That is why we decided to make this trip between a few of their camps, remember? To lift their spirits and show them that -"

"Brave words, Ralof," another voice interrupted, "but if you keep flapping your lips, the Imperials will find us for sure."

Rilian had frozen in place so that the speakers would not hear her moving, and Bregor crept up by her side. They watched, motionless, as half a dozen Nords clad in blue shirts over chainmail armor walked past. The tallest, most muscular one had long golden hair, a matching beard, and wore a gray fur cape.

At that moment, the Nords froze in place as well. Rilian's long, pointed ears picked up the sound of hoofbeats, soft but getting steadily louder. A dark-haired man in rags riding on a chestnut horse charged through the woods towards them.

At that moment, all Oblivion seemed to break loose. Soldiers in dark brown armor with red trim leapt out from beneath the underbrush and behind the trees, brandishing their swords and shields. Rilian had seen this armor before in Cyrodiil, and she recognized that these soldiers were from the Imperial Legion. The horse spooked and bucked, throwing its rider and galloping away as fast as its legs could carry it. A middle-aged Imperial wearing fancy armor made of red cloth and gold-plated metal emerged from hiding with the rest of his soldiers. "Ulfric, order your men to stand down! You're outnumbered and surrounded. If you fight, you and your men will die!"

Everything was chaos. Bregor panicked and ran, and the sound of his escape caught the attention of a brown-haired soldier. He siezed the elf-boy's upper arm with his free hand. "What have we here? A 'wolf cub,' trying to run away?" Rilian drew her knife and tried to rush to her brother's aid, but something dull and heavy struck her on the back of her head, and she blacked out.

–

Bregor saw his sister fall to a blow from an Imperial mace, and he heard his own voice scream "No!"

Then, over the din of the skirmish, he heard the rebel leader commanding his fighters: "Lay down your arms! We cannot win against so many!" The men in blue – or rather, mostly men, since there was one woman among them – obeyed, some more grudgingly than others. A few of the Imperial soldiers set to work binding their captives' wrists, while another tied a strip of cloth tightly around the rebel leader's mouth so that he couldn't speak.

"What's this? A wood elf?" Bregor turned around as best he could to see the Imperial leader standing over his sister, looking down at her. "I think she's still alive. Get her on the wagons with the others!"

The brown-haired Nord soldier made his way towards his comrades, dragging the struggling elf-child with him. "Let me go!" Bregor wailed.

"General, I found another elf trying to flee from the battle," the soldier said, loudly enough to be heard over his prisoner. "Damn Stormcloaks, I didn't think even they would stoop so low as to drag a boy into their treason."

"You're wrong as usual, Hadvar," a light blond-haired and slightly darker blond-bearded Stormcloak replied. Bregor recognized his voice: he was the one the other Stormcloaks had called Ralof. "I've never seen that boy before in my life."

"Let me go!" Bregor cried again, squirming as hard as he could. "Please don't hand me and my sister over to the Thalmor! They'll kill us!"

"Is that so?" the general asked, giving Bregor a long, hard look. "Fugitives from the Aldmeri Dominion, eh? I'm impressed that you managed to get all the way across Cyrodiil without drawing the Empire's attention. Did you think the Stormcloaks would save you if you joined their rebellion?"

Before the general could demand an answer, Bregor squirmed out of the soldier's grip and dashed off into the forest. Hadvar started to give chase, but the general stopped him. "Let the boy go. It would be a fool's errand to try to track him through these woods, and he won't leave his sister far behind. Besides, the punishment that awaits these traitors isn't for children's eyes."

–

The first thing Rilian heard was the sound of horse's hooves on a stone road and the creaking of wooden wagon wheels. She could feel a plank of wood supporting her rump and a few more behind her back and under her feet, as well as cords binding her wrists. Her head was pounding. She opened her eyes and looked around. She was in a horse-drawn wagon being driven by an Imperial soldier. There was another similar wagon in front of the one she was in, carrying four of the blue-clad warriors. Before that wagon rode the leader of the ambush she had gotten caught in. She couldn't see her brother anywhere.

"Hey, you're awake," said the warrior seated across from her – the one called Ralof from before, except now his weapons were gone and his hands were bound.

"What happened?" Rilian groaned.

"You were trying to cross the border," Ralof explained. "You got caught in an Imperial ambush, same as us and that thief over there." He looked over at the dark-haired horse-rider who was seated next to him. Rilian looked in the same direction and saw that the leader of the warriors was also in the wagon next to her, bound like the others, with a cloth tied tightly over his mouth so that he wouldn't be able to speak. For the first time, Rilian noticed a scar on the rebel leader's left cheek, probably from the edge of a blade. The soldier who had caught Bregor rode behind them.

"Damn you Stormcloaks to Oblivion," the rider cursed. "If not for you I could've stolen that horse and been halfway to Hammerfell. Things used to be better before you Stormcloaks started stirring up trouble. Empire was nice and lazy." He turned to face Rilian. "Hey, you, we're not with them. We shouldn't be here."

"We're all brothers and sisters in binds now, thief," Ralof replied.

"Shut up back there!" the soldier driving the wagon barked.

There was a short silence as the convoy turned a sharp bend in the road. Then the horse thief looked at the gagged man opposite him. "What's the matter with him, eh?"

"Watch your tongue," Ralof rebuked him. "You're speaking to Ulfric Stormcloak, the true High King."

"Jarl Ulfric?" the thief stammered in disbelief. "But that means... oh, gods, where are they taking us?"

"I don't know where we're going," Ralof said despondently, "but Sovngarde awaits."

The rider flew into a panic. "No! This can't be happening! This isn't happening!"

There was another long pause. "What village are you from, horse thief?" the rebel asked.

"Why do you care?"

"A Nord's last thoughts should be of home."

The thief paused again. "Rorikstead. I – I'm from Rorikstead."

Rilian carefully turned her aching head to see where they were going. The road led to a wide gate in a thick wall. The town guards opened the gate to let the convoy in, and Rilian heard a voice saying "General Tullius, sir! The headsman is waiting."

The general replied "Let's get this over with."

The horse thief prayed frantically to the divines for deliverance as the rest of the convoy went through the gate. Rilian could see the general talking to a Thalmor agent. She turned her face away, hoping that the Thalmor wouldn't recognize her. As far as she knew, the Thalmor believed that she and Bregor had been killed by their Justiciars along with the rest of her family, and she wanted to keep it that way.

"Look at him, General Tullius, the military governor," the rebel said with contempt dripping from his voice. "And it looks like the Thalmor are with him. Damn elves. I bet they had something to do with this." Rilian glanced back to see if she could find her brother, but there was still no sign of him. Then she turned her attention to the rest of the city. It was mainly small wooden houses surrounded by walls and towers of thick gray stone, with one lone tower standing at the center. "This is Helgen," the rebel commented. "I used to be sweet on a girl from here. I wonder if Vilod is still making that mead with juniper berries mixed in. Funny, when I was a boy, Imperial walls and towers used to make me feel so safe."

His sorrowful nostalgia seemed to be contagious. Rilian leaned back against the side of the wagon as she listened to a local father order his reluctant son into the house so that the boy wouldn't witness the violent deed about to be done. _Back home, the Seer said I was born marked by the White Wolf_ , she thought. _That's why I was given the name Rilian – it meant I had a destiny, like my grandmother and all the warrior-maidens who bore the name of the White Wolf before me. But maybe the Seer read the signs wrong. Maybe my destiny was to flee from Valenwood and journey across Cyrodiil only to die here._

The first wagon crossed a cobbled stone courtyard in front of the town's central tower, then came to a halt in front of a wall. The wagon Rilian was in followed. "We're stopping," the horse thief stammered. "Why are we stopping?"

"Why do you think?" the rebel replied. "End of the line."

Rilian and the other prisoners stood up and began to file out of the wagon. The other set of prisoners had already gotten out of their wagon and were standing in line behind it, with a pair of soldiers in front of them. One soldier held a book and quill – he seemed to be checking off the captured raiders one by one. Rilian made the long step down from the back of her wagon and was faced with two more soldiers – a woman in officer's armor and the brown-haired man who had caught Bregor. He also held a book and a quill. "Step up to the block when you hear your name," the woman barked.

The man looked down at the book in his hand. "Ulfric Stormcloak, Jarl of Windhelm," he read.

"It has been an honor, Jarl Ulfric," Ralof said sadly as his leader walked towards the tower to their left. A lump of fear settled in Rilian's stomach as she saw the soldiers setting up a chopping block and a cowled executioner readying his blood-stained axe.

"Ralof of Riverwood," the man reading from the list continued. The raider left his place next to Rilian and went to await execution with his compatriots. The list went on: "Lokir of Rorikstead."

"No! I'm not a rebel! You can't do this!" Lokir panicked. Then he made a desperate run for it.

"Halt!" the Captain called.

"You're not going to kill me!" Lokir yelled back, half in fear and half taunting.

"Archers!" the Captain ordered. A line of bow-wielding soldiers lined up next to one of the walls took aim and let fire. Lokir fell to the road, dead. "Anyone else feel like running?" she threatened.

The other soldier looked at Rilian. "Wait. You, step forward." The Wood Elf took a couple of steps towards him. "Who are you?"

Even though she was afraid, Rilian tried to appear calm. "I am Rilian of the woodland realm. I have no allegiance to either side in Skyrim's war; I simply fell into your ambush by ill-chance. I do not wish harm upon the Empire." Rilian certainly looked like she had traveled all the way across Cyrodiil without encountering much hospitality along the way.

"Not many Wood Elves would choose to come alone to Skyrim," the soldier with the book commented.

"I wasn't alone. My brother Bregor was with me."

"You'll be glad to know your brother escaped." The soldier turned to his commanding officer. "Captain, what should we do? She's not on the list."

For a moment hope rose in Rilian's heart, until the Captain's next words made it sink again. "Forget the list. She goes to the block."

"By your orders, Captain," the other soldier said reluctantly.

"I'm the only family my brother has left," Rilian mentioned, simply stating fact because even in rags she was too proud to beg for mercy.

"I'm sorry," the soldier replied sadly. "If we find your brother, he'll be taken care of. We'll make sure your remains are returned to Valenwood."

"And when I reach Aetherius, I'll commend you to the gods for showing kindness to one unjustly condemned." With those words, Rilian turned to her left and followed the Captain to where the Stormcloaks waited for death. She and the other soldier went and stood in front of the assembled prisoners, on either side of a priestess in yellow robes and the grim-looking headsman.

General Tullius was standing in front of the rebel leader with his arms crossed. "Ulfric Stormcloak. Some here in Helgen call you a hero. But a hero doesn't use a power like the Voice to murder his king and usurp his throne." Ulfric tried to protest, but all that came out through the gag were a few grunts. "You started this war, plunged Skyrim into chaos," Tullius went on. "But now the Empire is going to put you down and restore the peace!"

At that moment, Rilian heard a roar from the sky. Apparently she wasn't the only one who heard it. "What was that?" one of the soldiers asked.

"It's nothing. Carry on," the general replied.

"Yes, General Tullius. Give them their last rites," the Captain ordered the priestess.

The priestess obeyed, raising their hands to the sky and beginning to recite some rite about the Eight Divines blessing the condemned prisoners as their souls ascended to Aetherius, when one of the Stormcloaks interrupted her. "For the love of Talos, just shut up and let's get this over with," he snapped as he strode proudly towards the block.

"As you wish," the priestess replied curtly.

"Come on! I haven't got all morning!" the Stormcloak taunted. The Captain forced the Stormcloak to his knees and set his torso squarely on the block. "My ancestors are smiling at me, Imperials. Can you say the same?"

The axe came down. There was a brief fountain of red. The Stormcloak's head fell into a basket that was waiting for it, and the executioner kicked his body aside and let it slump to the ground. The other Stormcloaks jeered at their executioners, while the assembled townsfolk jeered at the Stormcloaks in turn. Rilian heard Ralof commemorate the dead man by saying "As fearless in death as he was in life."

"Well, at least I won't have to put up with this headache for much longer," Rilian commented drily.

Then the Captain barked "Next, the wood elf!"

There was another roar, this time sounding closer. The soldiers looked up at the sky, trying to find the source of the sound. "There it is again..."

"I said next prisoner," the Captain growled.

The other soldier looked at Rilian. "To the block, prisoner. Nice and easy."

Rilian decided the best thing to do would be to face death with as much poise and dignity as possible. She walked over to the block, and the Captain forced her onto it without even bothering to clear away the still-warm body of the beheaded Stormcloak. It seemed funny, but all she could think about was that from the angle of her perspective, the tower looked like it was a bit sideways. And so did the headsman preparing to raise his axe for the final blow. And so did the dragon.

 _Dragon?!_

Sure enough, a huge black dragon with fierce red eyes and a large mouth full of sharp fangs had flown above the city. It landed atop the tower with a massive thud just as the executioner was preparing to bring his axe down on Rilian's neck, and the sudden shake of the ground combined with the weight of his weapon caused him to lose his balance. The beast roared, and dark clouds gathered from out of nowhere, covering the sky. The soldiers sounded panic-stricken, and Rilian heard the general cry out "What in Oblivion is that?" The headsman was trying to get to his feet when the dragon roared again, and he was struck by a blast of some kind of energy from the dragon's maw which sent him flying. The edge of the blast grazed Rilian, knocking the wind out of her as she fell to the ground.

Dazed, Rilian struggled to her feet. As her blurry vision began to clear, she thought she saw Ralof in front of her, freed from his bonds and holding a sword he must have taken from a dead soldier, shouting at her. "Hurry, wood elf! The gods have given us another chance. Follow me!" He ran to another tower in the corner of town, and Rilian ran after him.A burst of dragonfire sent flaming stones flying in front of her as she neared the tower entrance, and Ralof turned around in the doorway to make sure she was all right. She dashed into the doorway, nearly colliding with him, then entered the tower just behind him. The surviving Stormcloaks were gathered in the tower's bottom chamber, including Ulfric, now freed from his bonds and his gag. "Jarl Ulfric!" Ralof exclaimed, "Could the legends be true?"

"Legends don't burn down villages," the Jarl replied grimly. "We need to move, now!"

Rilian hurried up the tower stairs, but when she reached the first landing, the dragon's head burst through the wall. Large stones flew everywhere, crushing a Stormcloak soldier who had already been standing on the landing. The dragon roared, and for a moment it seemed to Rilian almost as though there were words in that roar. But whether there were words or not, flames spewed from the dragon's mouth at the same time as the sound, making sure that the crushed Stormcloak was dead now if he hadn't been already. Then the dragon flew off.

Rilian looked out of the hole in the wall – there was a burning building nearby, part of its roof already gone. "See that inn on the other side?" she heard Ralof's voice from beside her. "Jump through the roof and keep going."

"Why do I have to jump and not you?"

Ralof didn't have time to argue. "Go! We'll follow when we can."

Rilian took a deep breath, climbed onto the ruined wall and jumped. When she landed on the second floor, she was afraid that the floor underneath her might cave in, but the building stayed sturdy. She ran across the building, found a hole in the floor and jumped through to solid ground.

The brown-haired soldier from before was there with one of the townsmen, under cover of a wall of another burning house. The dragon landed nearby, and the soldier called to some boys to get under cover with them. The children ran towards them, and Rilian was relieved to see that one of the boys was Bregor. The other child's father wasn't so lucky; fire spouted from the dragon's mouth, and the smell of burning flesh grew stronger as the man fell to the ground, his body being consumed by flames. Bregor dashed to his sister and wrapped his arms around her waist. "Rilian! The dragon didn't get you!"

"Still alive, Wolf-Sister?" the soldier asked. "You two had better stay close to me if you want to stay that way. Gunnar, take care of the boy. I have to find General Tullius and join the defense."

"Gods guide you, Hadvar," Gunnar replied.

Rilian tore her brother off her. "We're not safe yet. Come on."

"Are you really going to follow him? That's the man who caught me."

"He saved your life just now, and he was kind to me. I think we can trust him."

They followed Hadvar along the edge of a wall, behind a building that was very close to it. Suddenly, Hadvar stopped as the claws on the dragon's batlike wings hooked over the wall, pinning them beneath it. Rilian didn't dare to move for fear that she would brush against the wing membrane. The dragon breathed fire across the roadways and ruined houses, and an Imperial soldier fell dead in flames. It left, and Hadvar said "Let's go."

Rilian followed Hadvar and Bregor through the mazelike ruins of the burning buildings. Once they reached a clear space, there were soldiers running around everywhere and archers on the walls firing arrows at the dragon. Rilian heard General Tullius sounding the retreat to the keep.

Hadvar ran towards a building that looked like a fortress made of the same stone as the walls, but apparently Ralof had escaped the dragon's notice so far and now was headed for the keep as well. "Ralof!" Hadvar exclaimed, "You damn traitor! Out of my way!"

"We're escaping, Hadvar," Ralof retorted. "You can't stop us this time."While the warriors argued, the dragon swooped down to the city wall and used its talons to pluck an Imperial archer into the air.

"Fine. I hope that dragon takes you all to Sovngarde!" Hadvar retorted. They both ran through different doors into the keep, each one calling for the prisoners to follow them.

"Come with me," Rilian said to her brother. She had a decision to make and not much time before the dragon caught them out in the open. She didn't know much about the Imperial Legion and even less about the Stormcloak Rebellion, but she had told her brother that they could trust Hadvar, so she quickly led Bregor through Hadvar's door.

They found themselves in an Imperial barracks room. They could still hear the beast roaring outside. "Gods, that was close," Hadvar sighed in relief. "Was that really a dragon? The harbingers of the end times?"

"I don't know about 'harbingers of the end times' and I can't say I have much experience with dragons," Rilian replied, "but what else could it have been?"

Hadvar broke out of his dazed reverie and took notice of the prisoners. "Here, let me get those binds off." He took a dagger out of his weapons kit and used it to slice the cords around Rilian's wrists. "I'm afraid you'll need to keep your hide on for now, Wolf Cub. We have no armor that will fit you. I trust you will be able to protect the boy, Wolf-Sister? There should be a sword in one of these chests, if you know how to use it."

Rilian's father may have been a wealthy merchant, but he was also a member of the Mistcloak Order, and he had taught his daughter a thing or two about the arts of archery and stealth. She hadn't had quite as much training in swordsmanship, but she was determined to do what she could to keep her brother safe. "I can wield a blade," she replied.

"Good. I'm going to see if I can find something for these burns," said Hadvar.

While he went to a wooden chest that served as his own footlocker, Rilian rooted through the other soldiers' belongings, and she successfully located a book about khajiiti military tactics and a few gold coins as well as an iron sword and a set of Imperial light armor, complete with helm and boots. She also found a sturdy travelers' satchel that she could use to carry small items in, like books or alchemy ingredients. Part of her felt bad about taking these other soldiers' things, but she figured that few of the soldiers defending Helgen were probably alive to use them anymore. She hid behind a pillar to maintain a decent sense of modesty as she changed out of her rags. To be honest, she was also a bit startled that Hadvar had referred to her as 'Wolf-Sister.' He had no way of knowing about the White Wolf or the Mistcloak Order, so he wouldn't have realized how apt that name was for one of the White Wolf's chosen warrior-maidens.

"Are you ready?" Hadvar asked when Rilian emerged from behind the pillar.

"Yes," Rilian answered."But, out of curiosity, why did you call me 'Wolf-Sister?'"

"I think I read the name in a dusty old history book once, and you must be a skilled huntress to provide a fresh wolfskin coat for your brother with only one knife to defend yourself. Anyway, enough talk. Let's go." Hadvar went over to an arched doorway barred by a portcullis. He pulled a chain in the wall, and the portcullis lowered.

After going down a short hallway, the group found themselves in front of another similar door. Rilian could hear voices on the other side. "We have to get out of here!" one of them exclaimed. "There's a dragon attacking the keep!"

"Just... let me... catch my breath..." the other one panted.

"Did you hear that? Stormcloaks," Hadvar commented in a soft voice as he peered through the portcullis bars. "Maybe we can reason with them."

Rilian pulled the chain to open this door, and she and Hadvar stepped into the chamber beyond. There were two Stormcloaks there, as well as one who was no longer alive. The surviving Stormcloaks drew their weapons as soon as they saw two people in Imperial armor approaching them. "Keep calm," Hadvar tried to reassure them. "We just want to -"

"If you want to die, we'll be glad to oblige you!" one of the Stormcloaks snarled, and they rushed at Hadvar.

"Get back!" Rilian called to Bregor as she rushed to Hadvar's defense. She slashed at one of the Stormcloaks with her sword, at first mainly hitting the blade of the broadsword which he raised to defend himself with, but it didn't take her long to find an opening, and she ran him through with her blade. Then she turned to the other Stormcloak, who was so busy with Hadvar that she hadn't noticed her back was to Rilian, and she dispatched her in a similar manner.

Rilian removed a pair of fur gauntlets from the dead Stormcloak woman's forearms and took them for her own. She also quickly searched the bodies for any gold septims they might have on them. Meanwhile, Bregor came out from behind the wall near the doorway, where he had been hiding since the fighting started. They moved on down a curved stairway until they found themselves in a wider hall. Before they could move, there was another roar from outside. The keep seemed to shake around them, and the walls in front of them caved in. "Damn!" Hadvar cursed, "That dragon doesn't give up!"

 _I hope Bregor doesn't pick up soldiers' speech,_ Rilian thought. However, she couldn't spend too much time dwelling on that. There was a wooden door to her left, and since there was no longer a more direct way to the exit, Rilian opened the door.

They entered a narrow, curved room with a fireplace near one end. Most of the walls were lined with shelves and barrels. There were two more Stormcloaks in the middle of the room.

"What are you doing?" one of them asked the other. "We have to get out of here!"

"I heard the Imperials keep potions in here. Let's grab what we can and get out," the other Stormcloak replied.

Their looting was cut short by Rilian and Hadvar's arrival. One short skirmish later, the Stormcloaks were dead and Hadvar was explaining to his unexpected guests that they were now in the storeroom and that Rilian should take this opportunity to grab anything she needed. Rilian was not one to waste an opportunity. She scoured the barrels and shelves for potions – mainly healing draughts – and found a bit of salt as well. She also removed a loaf of bread and several bottles of wine from the tables, as well as some raw meat from several rabbits and a pheasant that were hanging on butcher's racks suspended from the ceiling, some garlic and herbs that had been hung from the rafters to dry, some cabbage and potatoes from a couple of burlap sacks and a few wild birds' eggs from a basket. It had been a while since she'd had any certainty of where her and her brother's next meals were coming from, and she didn't want to waste this chance for free food.

Hadvar and Bregor waited impatiently by another wooden door at the end of the room. Once Rilian was finished gathering supplies, Hadvar opened the door and led the others down a few more flights of stairs. They could hear more sounds of fighting ahead. "The torture room," Hadvar explained. "Gods, I wish we didn't need this place."

A hooded old man and a bald-headed Imperial soldier were fighting off a couple more Stormcloaks. They had almost dealt with their enemies on their own, but Hadvar and Rilian ran in to lend a hand anyway. Once the Stormcloaks were dead, Rilian sheathed her sword and took a look around. Many of the stones on the floor were stained with blood. There were a few iron cages along one of the walls, as well as who knows what other grisly devices here and there. Bregor stuck to Rilian's side like glue.

Rilian searched the Stormcloaks' bodies and found a lightweight hide shield, which she claimed as her own. Meanwhile, Hadvar was informing his compatriots of the situation. "We have to get out of here! There's a dragon attacking the keep!"

"A dragon?" the old man scoffed. "Spare me your children's tales."

"It's the truth! We need to go, now!"

"You don't have the authority to command me, boy," the old man replied snidely.

While Hadvar argued with the torturer, Rilian looked over a small, low table. There were a knapsack and a dagger on it, as well as a black book with the Imperial emblem – a dragon with its wings forming a diamond shape – in silver on the cover. She picked the book up and began leafing through it. It was a study on something called Dragonborn, and it had something to do with the Emperors' bloodlines in the last few Empires. Rilian remembered vaguely from her grandmother's stories about the Oblivion Crisis that apparently the Septim emperors had 'dragon blood' in their veins or something. Still, the writer of this study mentioned the Blades – another word Rilian remembered from her grandmother's stories – and she claimed that this 'dragon blood' was not merely a matter of lineage, but a gift from Akatosh himself. Still, it was the prophecy at the end that caught most of Rilian's attention.

"When misrule takes its place at the eight corners of the world; When the Brass Tower walks and Time is reshaped; When the thrice-blessed fail and the Red Tower trembles; When the Dragonborn Ruler loses his throne, and the White Tower falls; When the Snow Tower lies sundered, kingless, bleeding; The World-Eater wakes, and the Wheel turns upon the Last Dragonborn."

Rilian knew the history of Tamriel well enough. _I bet this part about the Snow Tower means the Civil War. The part before it must refer to the end of the Septim Empire, and the Red Tower probably means Red Mountain in Morrowind. The part about time being reshaped must be the Warp in the West, and misrule spreading to the eight corners of the world... well, if 'the world' refers to the continent of Tamriel, that could be the Imperial Simulacrum. Then, if the dragon really is a harbinger of the end times like Hadvar said, then that could be what's meant by 'the World-Eater.' But what's this 'Last Dragonborn' business?_

The sound of Hadvar speaking snapped Rilian out of her musings. "There's still someone in there."

"Don't bother," the old man sneered. "I lost the key to that cage ages ago. Poor fellow screamed for weeks." There wasn't even a hint of pity in his voice or expression.

"We might be able to use some of his belongings," Hadvar continued. "Wolf-Sister, do you know how to use a lockpick? See if you can get the cage open."

"Yes, please, take all my things," the torturer said sarcastically.

"If you stay here until the keep falls on top of you because you're too pompous to believe in dragons, you won't need any of 'your things,'" Rilian retorted as she fished a handful of lockpicks out of the bag.

"How dare you? I've given prisoners the rack for less!"

"I'm sure you have." Rilian strolled over to the cage and muttered "Heartless old codger" under her breath as she set to work on the lock. She didn't have any experience with this sort of thing, but it wasn't a complicated lock, and after a try or two it seemed like a puzzle. It didn't take her long to get the lock open, and Rilian took several gold pieces, a couple of potions and a spell tome for some kind of lightning-elemental magic attack from the unfortunate mage lying dead at the bottom of the cage.

The torturer's assistant joined the other three escapees, and they continued further into the keep. However, before they left, the torturer couldn't resist one last snide remark. "There's no way out that way, you know."

The dungeons consisted of a long, narrow hallway leading from the torture chamber, with several small, dark cells on either side. Rilian spied a coin purse lying next to some unfortunate prisoner's skeleton in one of the cells, so she picked the lock and retrieved the gold. The house of horrors continued in the next room – prisoner cages suspended from the ceiling, more torture devices. Bregor hid his face in his wolfskin coat.

Something had knocked a hole in the far wall, which led into a cave passage. Clearly, someone had extended the range of Helgen Keep into this cave because there was a firebowl by the side of the passage to light the way. The cave turned into a long, winding passage. "Which way do we go?" the torturer's assistant asked in fright. "How do we get out?"

"Calm down and let me think," Hadvar rebuked him.

Not much further along, they heard voices ahead. Rilian motioned for Bregor to stay back, then she drew her sword and charged forward with the others. The passageway opened up into a cavern with an underground stream flowing down a waterfall and through the middle of the chamber. Someone had hewn stairs and platforms into the stone near the waterfall and built a narrow bridge over the bottom of the falls. There were five Stormcloaks taking refuge in this chamber, and when they saw the Imperials, three of them drew swords and axes and rushed at them. Rilian went down a flight of stairs and met two of them in battle beside the stream, and the torturer's assistant followed her while Hadvar engaged the third in combat atop the bridge. Meanwhile, the other two Stormcloaks had their longbows in hand and were trying to shoot Rilian and her new allies. Once the melee combatants were dealt with, Rilian ran back up the stairs and held her shield up to block incoming arrows. Meanwhile, Hadvar had taken a bow of his own in hand and was firing back to cover for his allies. The torturer's assistant cut one of the Stormcloak archers down with his battleaxe, and Rilian took care of the other one. Then she picked up one of the Stormcloak bows and inspected it; it was made of wood, which Rilian wasn't used to, and it looked very plain. Still, a bow was a bow, and Rilian took this one with her, as well as any of the Stormcloak archers' arrows she could find.

"I'd better go back and see to the old man," the torturer's assistant told the others. "You three go on ahead. Good luck to you."

The remaining escapees continued on their way, and after another passage they arrived at a small wooden drawbridge to keep interlopers from getting into the keep from the outside of the cave. Hadvar activated the lever to lower the drawbridge, and they went into the next chamber. Rilian hurried down a short flight of stairs leading to another platform in the rock, across the platform and down another flight of stairs. Then she wheeled around as the dragon's roar echoed through the caves and everything around them shook violently. She could see Hadvar from the angle she was at – or at least, everything above his waist – but she couldn't see her brother. The drawbridge collapsed with a crash, and for a moment she feared the worst. "Bregor!"

Hadvar turned around to look at the wrecked drawbridge. "He fell, but it wasn't a far drop," he reassured her. "Looks like the others will have to find another way out. Are you all right, Wolf Cub?"

"My ankle hurts," Rilian heard her brother's voice whining.

"Is there any way out of there?"

"There's another tunnel, but I don't think I can walk."

"Then stay there. Your sister and I will come for you."

The stream resumed its course at the bottom of the stairs, flowing through a portcullis that was supposed to bar off a tunnel that led in Bregor's general direction. Luckily, one of the bars was missing Rilian and Hadvar hurried upstream and found a skeleton of some unfortunate traveler trapped in the cave. Rilian took a pouch of gold and a healing potion from beside the skeleton, since the traveler didn't need them anymore. Up another short flight of stairs, Rilian found a dead end where the bridge had collapsed. Bregor was sitting on the ground, and even though he was big for an elf-boy – almost an adolescent – Hadvar managed to pick him up. "Try not to struggle this time," the soldier quipped. "I don't want to drop you."

They continued through the caverns until they reached a place where the stream squeezed through a crack too small for any of them to fit through. Rilian snatched a coin purse from a skeleton lying on a shelf of rock, and the three of them made their way through a narrow tunnel. However, as Rilian was descending another set of stairs, she saw that their path was about to open into another cavern – a cavern that seemed to be decorated with very large cobwebs. "Put him down somewhere safe," she whispered to her brother as she drew her bow. "Don't look, Bregor." Peering ahead, she saw that one of the brown patches on the cavern floor was not stone, but rather a spider the size of a large dog. She set an arrow to the string and fired, killing the spider where it stood, but more took notice and began crawling towards her. She shot another one as Hadvar drew his sword and moved forward. He entered the chamber and dispatched a third spider with a single stab, but just as he was about to let his guard down, Rilian saw two slightly larger spiders descending on threads from the ceiling. "Look out!" she called to Hadvar.

Rilian put an arrow through the middle of one of the oversized arachnid's eight bulging black eyes while Hadvar finished off the other one. "That takes care of that. What's next, giant snakes?"

Once the two fighters had put their weapons away, Hadvar went back to get Bregor while Rilian went about collecting the venom from the deceased arachnids, just in case. When Hadvar got back, Bregor was trying very hard to avoid looking at the dead arachnids. "He hates spiders," she explained to Hadvar. "The first time our father took him out to the forest to teach him how to check traps, a spider dropped down off a tree branch and landed in my brother's hair. And that was just a normal-sized spider, not like these."

"Are you sure they're dead?" Bregor whimpered.

"There would have to be a necromancer around here in order to make them not dead," Rilian replied.

"If there was a necromancer here, you would have killed him first, then the spiders," Bregor commented.

"I take it you don't like necromancers very much?" Hadvar asked. "I don't blame you."

Rilian paused for a moment; her brother had almost let slip about the Mistcloak Order's primary mission. She would have to remind him to be more careful in the future. "Back in Valenwood, I made a living hunting the undead – vampires, ghosts, walking skeletons," she explained to Hadvar as they continued walking down another tunnel. "Wiping out necromancy was a necessary part of my work."

"I heard the elves of Valenwood are afraid of the undead. Superstitious bunch – no offense."

"None taken. Most of my people do fear the undead out of superstition, which is why getting rid of pesky hauntings earns good coin for those who have the courage."

The escapees found the stream again and followed it almost to the end of a long chamber, when Hadvar suddenly crouched down. "Wait!" he whispered, "There's a bear over there." Sure enough, part of the cave roof up ahead was open to the sky, and when Rilian looked forward she could see a large dark lump resting in the light from outside. "I don't think it would be wise to take her head-on," Hadvar continued. "Let's try to sneak past. Or, if you're feeling lucky, take this." He handed her another longbow and more arrows. Even though she already had a bow, Rilian figured it might not be a good idea to look a gift bow in the mouth, but she also didn't want to put her brother in danger by waking the bear.

Luckily, her Mistcloak training came in useful. After raiding an abandoned cart which held a bottle of fine mead, several bottles of fine wine, and a sack of gold, Rilian led the way for Hadvar, who was now carrying Bregor on his back. She crept slowly and quietly, staying in the shadows and keeping well away from the bear. After what seemed like an age, they were out of its lair. They went around a couple more bends in the tunnel, then they saw a tall crack in the stone wall with light and fresh air pouring through it – a crack wide enough for a grown man to get through.

As soon as they were outside, they heard the beating of giant wings above them. Hadvar took cover behind a large boulder, and Rilian followed his example. Peering over the rock and through the branches of a group of evergreen trees, Rilian saw the dragon flying away towards the north.

They left their cover, all more than a little shaken and trying to process what had just happened. "He's gone," said Hadvar. "Thank you. I don't think I would have made it out of there alive without you." He paused for a moment. "It would probably be best if we split up. You should make for Riverwood. My uncle Alvor is a blacksmith there. He can help you."

"My brother and I are strangers to Skyrim, and it sounds like you know this land well," Rilian pointed out. "Besides, Bregor is in no state to travel on his own, and if we were attacked by wild animals while I was carrying him, I wouldn't be able to defend us. We would be much obliged if you would guide us to Riverwood."

"All right," Hadvar agreed. "Come with me."


End file.
